


Supernatural

by Muzik3



Series: Scomiche Oneshots [2]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 16:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9279689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muzik3/pseuds/Muzik3
Summary: Scott doesn't quite know what to make of the strange things that keep happening.





	

At first Scott just thought Mitch had gotten even more attached to little Wyatt. They were always in the same room anyway, Wyatt constantly asking for attention. He thought Mitch was just really in tune with the grey sphynx cat as he once again saved one of his bottles of nail polish from certain death. Wyatt had been trying to push it off the night stand for a few minutes and when he finally did, Mitch had held out his hand in reflex to catch it. Wyatt and Mitch had been going at it for about an hour now. Scott, who had been hanging out with Mitch in his bedroom, had noticed after the second time the bottle went for the floor. Without missing a beat, Mitch had caught the bottle. At one point he thought he saw Mitch do it without so much as looking up from his Macbook.

A few days later when Scott and Mitch were both hanging out in the living room, Mitch had suddenly stood up and had rushed into the kitchen. A few seconds later Scott heard him scolding at Wyatt, telling him to stop trying to break things. As if he knew what Wyatt was doing even if he was in a completely different room.

One morning, Scott was making his way around the kitchen making breakfast, when Mitch came in. Scott turned around to greet him and in the process of doing so, elbowed the open box of cereal from the counter. Mitch just veered out of his way to the fridge to catch it with a single hand and put it back on the counter, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to have reflexes like that. Scott frowned at him, but Mitch didn't notice – or pretended not to – and went on with his day.

It was little moments like these that had been happening especially in the last few weeks since they had gotten back from Japan. Mitch suddenly seemed a lot more aware of his environment, more in tune with Wyatt, and now even more in tune with Scott himself. Anytime something was about to go awry, Mitch was there to make sure things didn't break or drop. Even if he had been on a different floor entirely.

Scott wondered why. Did something happen in Japan that Mitch felt the need to be more attentive? Or even motherly, trying to make sure he wouldn't make a mess everywhere? He did get drunk that one time and he didn't quite remember the whole night. He was sure Mitch had been just as out of it though, so that couldn't be it. Something was off about Mitch – or perhaps it was on, too on – and he was determined to find out what.

He started setting little traps around the house, trying to figure out if Mitch would notice all of them, and if he had a weak spot anywhere. But Mitch graciously went past every trap without so much as blinking. The jar of peanut butter on the edge of the counter was shoved back before it could fall, the wine glass was caught in an empty box Mitch was carrying around, the tall lamp that was supposed to fall over when Mitch came barging into the house after his Starbucks run was saved by his hips swinging to the right and bumping it back into place. Nothing could surprise Mitch anymore, it seemed.

Soon Scott was out of ideas. Should he just confront Mitch about it? Maybe he'd think he was being silly. Maybe it was all just a coincidence. But was it really?

Scott sat at the kitchen table with his bowl of cereal, scrolling through his Twitter feed as Mitch entered the room.

"I'm about to go shopping with Candice, do you need anything? I mean, she'll probably get you some garments, but if you're looking for anything specific," he rambled, sort of half posing a question, while making his way around the kitchen to make a cup of coffee for Scott and himself.

"No I'm good, thanks. I'm going over to Kevin's later, we're working on something," Scott replied, not looking up from his phone.

"Okay, can't wait to hear," Mitch said, tapping his nails on the counter as the two cups slowly filled. The machine beeped and he took his cup out. "Your coffee's ready, make sure you don't burn yourself when you spill it all over your shirt." The way he said it made it sound as if it was bound to happen. As if Scott did it all the time, which simply wasn't true.

Scott raised his eyebrows. "What are you, psychic?" He asked, his tone joking as a cover up for his genuine interest.

"Something like that." On his way out of the kitchen Mitch grabbed the roll of paper towels and threw it on the kitchen table where Scott sat.

Mitch had barely left the kitchen or Scott was startled by Wyatt jumping up on his lap, causing him to spill half of the leftover milk in his bowl onto the table. Scott stiffened for a second. This couldn't be a coincidence anymore. How did Mitch know he was going to need those paper towels? He was going to need answers.

He stood up from the table and followed Mitch into the living room, not caring that Wyatt was now licking the sweetened milk off the table. "Mitch, for real."

"What?" Mitch asked, turning around and looking at Scott with innocent eyes.

"Are you psychic?"

Mitch laughed. "Are you serious?"

"Actually, I am." Scott put his hands on his hips. "At first I just thought your reflexes were somehow improving, but you just threw me towels before anything even happened. How did you know?"

"Just a guess. You're a messy eater."

Scott sighed in frustration. "Something's not right, Mitch. I know it. If you don't want to tell me... you know what, it's whatever. Never mind." He turned around to go back into the kitchen, not noticing that Mitch's smile had dropped into sadness.

That night, Scott came home to an empty house. He fed Wyatt, got himself a glass of wine and made himself comfortable on the couch, feeling positive and accomplished. His writing session with Kevin had gone really well, and he had been feeling inspired all day. Right as he decided to turn on the tv, Mitch came in. He had a ton of bags in his arms, so Scott set down his glass and hurried over to help him out.

"Thanks," he muttered, as Scott grabbed the one bag that looked especially heavy. "Put it down, it's gonna rip." Scott did as he was told, feeling the bag ripping in his hands. "Candice bought you shoes, I think they're in there."

"Cool, I'll check them out later," Scott said with a grin, helping Mitch out with the other bags as well. "Do you need all of these in your room?" He started for Mitch's room, not even waiting for Mitch's hum in response. Mitch followed him closely with some of the lighter bags. Scott dumped the bags on Mitch's bed and turned around. "Am I gonna get a show? Or are you gonna randomly pull things out and surprise me every day?" Mitch just grinned.

"I can show you if you want. But I wanna show you something else first." Mitch gave him an amused look. "Sit down, please." He gestured to one of the few spots on the bed that wasn't littered with bags. Slightly confused, Scott sat down. Mitch went for one of the bags and pulled out a container with a bunch of tennis balls. Scott frowned at him. What was he doing? Mitch pushed the container in Scott's hands and took a few steps back. "I'm going to turn around, and when you say 'go', I'll turn to you and you immediately throw one of those balls at me, okay?" Scott could only nod in confusion. Mitch turned around. "I'm ready."

Scott looked at Mitch's back for a second, before he took a tennis ball in his hand. "Go." He threw the ball to Mitch's left and without hesitation Mitch turned around and caught it. As if that wasn't impressive enough from a boy who had once wished he had a skill in any sport, Scott noticed he had also done it with his eyes closed. Then he opened them, staring straight into Scott's eyes. "How," was the only thing Scott could utter.

Mitch's shoulders slumped ever so slightly as he let out a deep breath. "I wouldn't call myself psychic per se," he started. "But I guess I can sort of see what's going to happen."

"How," Scott repeated, still not able to say anything else, realization dawning on him. Mitch could do things. Special things.

"I don't know. It just started happening. First it was just a feeling, as if something was going to go wrong at any second. And then I noticed I was constantly having deja vus. Then I realized I could see what was going to happen a few seconds from now. This morning I checked and I'm pretty sure I'm up to a minute of premonition now."

Scott just stared at him blankly. Was Mitch fucking with him? There was no way this could be real. But... it was the only explanation. It wasn't as if it hadn't crossed Scott's mind before. But things like this didn't exist. Right? "So that's how you keep saving everyone from making a mess?"

"Basically." One of the corners of his mouth started curling up slightly. "I mean, I haven't really found another use for it yet."

"Do you think it's gonna get even stronger? Like, will you be able to see days into the future?" Scott didn't even care anymore if Mitch was pulling some elaborate prank on him or not.

"I don't know. I don't think so. I mean, the views are constantly adjusting and shifting, it's not like what I see is actually going to happen. It can change."

"Are you making fun of me?" He had barely finished his sentence or Mitch's careful smile disappeared and his eyes widened slightly, as if he was scared.

"No, no I'm not," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He pulled his eyes away from Scott's and started plucking at his nails. "I swear."

"You're gonna have to give me some time to get used to it," Scott then said, realizing that Mitch was somehow speaking the truth. That somehow Mitch did have this ability, even if it seemed completely impossible. Maybe it was a little bit scary to think about. But it could be amazing. Mitch looked up again, carefully, meeting Scott's eyes. A small and mischievous twinkle appeared when Mitch smiled again.

"You will soon enough."


End file.
